My partner is home from the hospital, where she was rushed last week after becoming septic, most likely from a cat bite. Our cat Darby, whom she adores, and who has slept on her bed throughout the latest phase of her decline, bit her when she kicked him in her sleep because he had been playing with her toes. Twenty-four hours later she had a fever of 103 and was semi-conscious. The aide called 911. She was in the ER for almost 48 hours, then in a bed for the next three days. They gave her about 10 bags of antibiotics plus some pills to take home.
Despite not having a diagnosis (her heart disease is controlled with medication), she is fading. Basically, all the symptoms she has are those of someone dying of what used to be called "old age". This article, which I found by doing a Google search, bears this out. I don't know how long she has left. No doctor has said that she has six months or less, and that therefore she should be in hospice. On other other hand, pain is not her problem. Lack of a life force is. Here is a list of what is happening now.
1. She never gets out of bed. She refuses all attempts at physical therapy that involve trying to walk, even though she had been able to do this in March in the nursing home.
2. She eats very little. Every passing week she eats less. Now mostly she just drinks Ensure, eats ice cream, and drinks milk and water. She refuses meals that she once liked. (I have told the aides that if she refuses food she has to have a bottle of Ensure.)
3. She sleeps most of the time.
4. She is confused about the time of day, what day it is, and when I am coming, although she knows me and all other people she has contact with.
5. She has lost interest in most things other than snuggling, her own body, ice cream, and cute programs about animals on tv.
6. Her hands are cold.
I can't be with her all the time but I want to be with her more than I used to. I have to work 20 hours a week and want to sing (more on that later - that's the "optimism" part) but I don't want her to die without me there. A friend who has watched several people die said that as the actual time approaches I will know. Then I will take both cats (I couldn't bring Darby back to her house when she came back from the hospital) to her house along with all my blood pressure medicines and just stay there. I stayed with my mother when I thought she was dying, which was 48 hours before she died.
I don't think she is suffering.
As for the optimism, it is ironic that I keep singing better and better (my voice keeps getting bigger and the high - and low - notes keep getting easier) but am no longer interested in all that heavy 19th Century Italian music.
My teacher and I are going to put on a concert on October 1. As the piano where it will be is out of tune (or was last year) we are not doing a lot of opera anyhow. We were going to do the duet from La Gioconda but he said he feels that it is too high for him now, so we will do the duet from Samson et Dalila that precedes "Mon Coeur" and then I will just sing "Mon Coeur".
We also talked about some mezzo and baritone duets from the French repertoire. I might enjoy doing those so we might do a Shakespeare-themed concert next Spring. I would love to do the duet with Gertrude and Hamlet from the Ambroise Thomas opera and then we might do the Henry VIII-Anne Boleyn duet from Saint Saens' Henry VIII, which is based on the Shakespeare play. And we could end with something from West Side Story.
So life goes on.....
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
Thursday, May 18, 2017
Obit
Sadly, I have to report that the man I referenced here has now died.
I have so many mixed feelings.
Why him and not me? How did he live such that his life had so many blessings? Talent well used, an ability to form healthy relationships, home-making skills.
I have none of those things and I am still here. I didn't know whether to beam, cry, or rage with envy when I read his wife's FB tribute. I don't want to recap it all here, as it went into a great deal of detail and also I want to respect their privacy. But this struck a note.
We encouraged each other and complimented each other. We had very different brains, talents and character defects, but we genuinely loved and respected each other.
A lot of this is relevant because I am shepherding someone through the end of life. Of course much is different. He was a man in his 50s who was dying of a terminal illness and was in hospice. My partner is going to be 83 next month and is bedridden but not "ill". Whatever else I complain about, I feel blessed to have this time with her.
Did we encourage each other? Probably no. We clung to each other and she, particularly, felt threatened by any venturing forth on the part of the other. I had to fight, literally, like a tiger, for any scrap of independence I had. Now it's easier because she's too out of it to make demands. She can't tell me "you can't go to the Met unless you go with me" because she doesn't go anywhere. So yes, I will go out with friends. She has accepted that I must sing, not just in church.
And yet we have always loved each other, passionately and desperately. My greatest joy in life is to lie curled up by her side watching tv, or to hold her little hand.
I suppose the man who died, and his wife, were just enough younger than me (and the fact that this was his third marriage, and they both came to it as people, not children says something) that he was able to have a relationship with less teenage (or less 1950s/1960s) baggage. You know - stand by your man (or your butch beau) and the worse he treats you the more brownie points you get, because of course, life is supposed to be like a rock song - or an opera. I partnered when I was an age that is now not even considered adult (25) during a decade when the most important thing for a woman was to "please" a partner, not to be a person. Now people develop selves first, partner later.
And of course I always envied how proud he was of his daughter, as I wrote several years ago. Another example of a healthy relationship. My mother was never proud of me that way: she alternated between mercilessly criticizing me and taking any of my accomplishments (certainly if they involved writing) to be her own.
I have spent the past, God knows, 8 years (since I left the full-time work force) trying to make a rich, vibrant, fulfilling life for myself and not much has come of it. Something has come of it, yes. I keep singing better and better. I realize I will never do anything I even like for a living, but that I can do many things that I like. I can write. I have discovered that I enjoy helping children with language skills. I can live on very little money. I don't have to travel. I don't have the money or the energy to turn this overstuffed British spinster style studio apartment into a "middle class home" (read shovel everything out, even temporarily, and have the floors sanded and waxed and the walls painted, not to mention keeping the dining table looking like a dining table instead of a place to keep my electronic keyboard) but I try to say that this does not mean that I have "failed" at being an adult.
Love is love whether you share erudite conversation at a dinner table with a tablecloth or hunker down in front of the tv with sandwiches on paper plates. I don't believe this man's widow loved him any more than I love my partner because they lived in nice surroundings and spoke to each other like adult friends instead of like squabbling teenagers madly in love who don't get along.
Most precious of all was the fact that his last words to her were "I love you". If I can have that too, that is really all I have a right to ask for.
I have so many mixed feelings.
Why him and not me? How did he live such that his life had so many blessings? Talent well used, an ability to form healthy relationships, home-making skills.
I have none of those things and I am still here. I didn't know whether to beam, cry, or rage with envy when I read his wife's FB tribute. I don't want to recap it all here, as it went into a great deal of detail and also I want to respect their privacy. But this struck a note.
We encouraged each other and complimented each other. We had very different brains, talents and character defects, but we genuinely loved and respected each other.
A lot of this is relevant because I am shepherding someone through the end of life. Of course much is different. He was a man in his 50s who was dying of a terminal illness and was in hospice. My partner is going to be 83 next month and is bedridden but not "ill". Whatever else I complain about, I feel blessed to have this time with her.
Did we encourage each other? Probably no. We clung to each other and she, particularly, felt threatened by any venturing forth on the part of the other. I had to fight, literally, like a tiger, for any scrap of independence I had. Now it's easier because she's too out of it to make demands. She can't tell me "you can't go to the Met unless you go with me" because she doesn't go anywhere. So yes, I will go out with friends. She has accepted that I must sing, not just in church.
And yet we have always loved each other, passionately and desperately. My greatest joy in life is to lie curled up by her side watching tv, or to hold her little hand.
I suppose the man who died, and his wife, were just enough younger than me (and the fact that this was his third marriage, and they both came to it as people, not children says something) that he was able to have a relationship with less teenage (or less 1950s/1960s) baggage. You know - stand by your man (or your butch beau) and the worse he treats you the more brownie points you get, because of course, life is supposed to be like a rock song - or an opera. I partnered when I was an age that is now not even considered adult (25) during a decade when the most important thing for a woman was to "please" a partner, not to be a person. Now people develop selves first, partner later.
And of course I always envied how proud he was of his daughter, as I wrote several years ago. Another example of a healthy relationship. My mother was never proud of me that way: she alternated between mercilessly criticizing me and taking any of my accomplishments (certainly if they involved writing) to be her own.
I have spent the past, God knows, 8 years (since I left the full-time work force) trying to make a rich, vibrant, fulfilling life for myself and not much has come of it. Something has come of it, yes. I keep singing better and better. I realize I will never do anything I even like for a living, but that I can do many things that I like. I can write. I have discovered that I enjoy helping children with language skills. I can live on very little money. I don't have to travel. I don't have the money or the energy to turn this overstuffed British spinster style studio apartment into a "middle class home" (read shovel everything out, even temporarily, and have the floors sanded and waxed and the walls painted, not to mention keeping the dining table looking like a dining table instead of a place to keep my electronic keyboard) but I try to say that this does not mean that I have "failed" at being an adult.
Love is love whether you share erudite conversation at a dinner table with a tablecloth or hunker down in front of the tv with sandwiches on paper plates. I don't believe this man's widow loved him any more than I love my partner because they lived in nice surroundings and spoke to each other like adult friends instead of like squabbling teenagers madly in love who don't get along.
Most precious of all was the fact that his last words to her were "I love you". If I can have that too, that is really all I have a right to ask for.
Sunday, May 14, 2017
Just an Update
I called Amsterdam House (the nursing home where my partner had been, which has a beautiful room with a piano) and they said they were totally booked for concerts in 2017. I said I would like to book something for the Spring of 2018. They said that they weren't taking bookings yet - to wait until the Fall, then call, although the man who coordinates all this took my phone number.
When I told my teacher, he said, no, I shouldn't wait that long, that I should call the nursing home where I put on my birthday concert. I was hesitant to do that because the piano was out of tune, but my teacher said it didn't really matter. He had been to that concert and hadn't been disturbed by the piano. So I emailed them and now have a date to sing on October 1. I will use my birthday concert as a template, but will remove some pieces so that my teacher and I can sing a duet and he can sing an aria and a few songs.
I can't believe I am saying this, but finally after 12 years, I am bored with both the "Habanera" and "Mon Coeur". I am going to sing the "Drinking Song" from Lucrezia Borgia. My teacher and I will sing the love duet from La Gioconda. The last time I sang that was with The Mentor. The point here is to focus on material that is upbeat. I will of course sing "Let Me Call You Sweetheart", "I Dreamt I Dwelt" and "Home Sweet Home". We will then decide the rest.
I can't believe I am saying this either, but I think I've reached the point where I'm bored by the heavy Verdi and verismo pieces. I am just not in the mood for anything heavy right now. My teacher said this is because my life has been sad and stressful. This does not mean, however, that I am going into vocal retreat!! My upper register continues to be easier and easier (although my teacher said I don't need to vocalize above a B most of the time) and I intend to tackle some new difficult pieces ("Tanti Affetti" from Donna del Lago comes to mind) just to see if I can do them. That has numerous B flats but most of them are in elaborate coloratura passages which is something I am good at.
We are almost out of the woods with my partner and her health issues. We are settled with the managed care company. She will continue to have 24/7 home care, but not the split shifts. It will be three different people sleeping in. We will have two of the people we already have, and then will have to find someone new for Tuesday-Thursday because the woman who has been with my partner in the daytime on those days does not want to sleep in. There are still problems with her landlord not accepting the checks I write on the Supplemental Needs Trust bank account but I think those may be on the way to being settled.
Now I am off to sing an 8 part "country" piece to welcome our new pastor. I am a little nervous because it will be my first time singing the second soprano part with the first soprano part.
When I told my teacher, he said, no, I shouldn't wait that long, that I should call the nursing home where I put on my birthday concert. I was hesitant to do that because the piano was out of tune, but my teacher said it didn't really matter. He had been to that concert and hadn't been disturbed by the piano. So I emailed them and now have a date to sing on October 1. I will use my birthday concert as a template, but will remove some pieces so that my teacher and I can sing a duet and he can sing an aria and a few songs.
I can't believe I am saying this, but finally after 12 years, I am bored with both the "Habanera" and "Mon Coeur". I am going to sing the "Drinking Song" from Lucrezia Borgia. My teacher and I will sing the love duet from La Gioconda. The last time I sang that was with The Mentor. The point here is to focus on material that is upbeat. I will of course sing "Let Me Call You Sweetheart", "I Dreamt I Dwelt" and "Home Sweet Home". We will then decide the rest.
I can't believe I am saying this either, but I think I've reached the point where I'm bored by the heavy Verdi and verismo pieces. I am just not in the mood for anything heavy right now. My teacher said this is because my life has been sad and stressful. This does not mean, however, that I am going into vocal retreat!! My upper register continues to be easier and easier (although my teacher said I don't need to vocalize above a B most of the time) and I intend to tackle some new difficult pieces ("Tanti Affetti" from Donna del Lago comes to mind) just to see if I can do them. That has numerous B flats but most of them are in elaborate coloratura passages which is something I am good at.
We are almost out of the woods with my partner and her health issues. We are settled with the managed care company. She will continue to have 24/7 home care, but not the split shifts. It will be three different people sleeping in. We will have two of the people we already have, and then will have to find someone new for Tuesday-Thursday because the woman who has been with my partner in the daytime on those days does not want to sleep in. There are still problems with her landlord not accepting the checks I write on the Supplemental Needs Trust bank account but I think those may be on the way to being settled.
Now I am off to sing an 8 part "country" piece to welcome our new pastor. I am a little nervous because it will be my first time singing the second soprano part with the first soprano part.
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